


14 Days in Mayfair

by Meridians_of_Madness



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Cock Warming, Consensual Non-Consent, Erotica, Kissing, Knifeplay, M/M, Object Insertion, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Quarantine, Sex Toys, Sexual Roleplay, Somnophilia, Spanking, Verbal Humiliation, porn sampler, virtual teleconferencing gangbang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23340307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meridians_of_Madness/pseuds/Meridians_of_Madness
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale find various ways to pass the time while under quarantine.-Written for the kink meme prompthere.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 242





	14 Days in Mayfair

**Author's Note:**

> I do not deserve all those tags, and I know it.

Of course they didn't need to quarantine in light of the current troubles, but Aziraphale had thought it was rather against the spirit of things to continue as they were. Neither of them had ever been in a league where their miracles could turn a tide of this size or severity, and much like they had during previous pandemics, it was time to hunker down and play least in sight.

Crowley, whose disaster preparation was a little more Carnival than Black Plague, was looking over his overflowing liquor cabinet with satisfaction when he got the expected knock at his door. He opened it, and paused, smiling, in the doorway.

“Mum's rented us some videos, and she's out for the evening, so we can stay up late as we like.”

Aziraphale shot him a tolerant look, handing him one of his bags to bring in as he hefted the other.

“Very funny, Crowley.”

“No, it'll be brilliant,” said Crowley, following him in. “We've got that one about the idiots in the cabin, and the other one about the idiots in the cabin, and maybe we'll make some prank calls, too, that'll be great...”

“Oh?” asked Aziraphal mildly. “I was rather hoping to practice kissing.”

“Erggh, wait, what kind of sleepovers have you been going to, angel?”

“Oh you know, not that we'll take it seriously of course. It's only that I'm so very nervous about kissing someone for the first time that I would really be ever so much more comfortable if it was with a good friend like you. Just for fun, you understand.”

He batted his eyes at Crowley, who was, all right, just a bit startled by how much he was into the idea of practice kisses, and went to survey the liquor cabinet.

“Did you rob someone's wine cellar, dear? Really, you know how I feel about hoarding and banditry...”

"Do I look like a prick, angel? No, that's fairly gathered from places all over the continent. Some of 'em didn't even know they had those bottles. All on the up and up, or at least as on the up and up as I get.”

Aziraphale nodded, satisfied for the moment, and sighed.

“Two weeks in confinement,” he said. “Whatever are we going to do?”

“Well, I've only been trying to get you into Broadchurch for forever and a day, and you keep squirming around about catching up on new Who, and after I watched all that American serial killer nonsense with you-” He paused as Aziraphale gave him a direct look.

“What I _meant_ , Crowley, is that we are trapped in here together. Nothing to do but keep ourselves entertained and sane. We of course must maintain our bonds of connection in this hectic and difficult time, using our wholly immortal and very limber bodies to do so. What _ever_ shall we do?”

The penny dropped with the weight of an anvil behind it, and Crowley started to grin.

“I dunno, angel, but maybe I should take a look in your bag for a clue?”

**Day 1**

Crowley licked a path from the center of Aziraphale's bare chest down to the waistband of his trousers, languidly undoing the angel's belt as he kissed the soft curve of his belly.

“I ever tell you what a handful you are?” he asked, reaching up with his free hand to curl around the angel's thick waist, lightly grasping the roll there. “Just love it. Always have. So much to grab on to. So much to lick and kiss and pet.”

“Promises, promises,” said Aziraphale, sounding anything but displeased. “I believe I was promised a ravishing, and here you are, waxing romantic.”

“Can't help it,” said Crowley, easing Aziraphale's cock out of his trousers. It was a thick weight in his hand, hardening and so good that Crowley couldn't have hurried for the Apocalypse itself. “Adore it. Adore you. Totally in love, angel, not sure if you've noticed.”

“Hm, perhaps you ought to remind me,” Aziraphale suggested, stretching out on the bed. Half-dressed and flushed with arousal, Aziraphale looked good enough to eat, and Crowley closed his mouth over the tip of Aziraphale's cock, suckling lightly as his fist wrapped tight around the base.

**Day 2**

“Oh that'ssss a good angel,” Crowley hissed, unable to keep his sibilants from getting away from him. It was hard, clipping his s's when he had the snake's tongue and the fangs, and plus why would he ever want to when the sound of them brought that bright red blush to Aziraphale's cheeks?

“Crowley, I'm not sure I can...” said Azirpahale almost demurely, which was fucking rich given the fact that he was stark naked and squirming halfway down Crowley's cock. He was so tight that Crowley thought he might lose his mind, but he hadn't done much more than squirm prettily for what felt like a whole minute, which certainly wasn't on.

“What, you need convincing?” Crowley asked, and when Aziraphale hummed in agreement, he reached up to roll his pink nipples between his fingertips, squeezing just firmly enough to make Aziraphale shudder. Crowley hungrily watched the shudder travel all the way through Aziraphale's corporation before glancing up again.

“Well?”

“I think... I think you should convince me more.”

Crowley laughed; they had been playing innocent angel-worldly demon for a bit, but that had gone straight out the window when things got interesting.

“All right, let's see how convincing I can be...”

He put more pressure on Aziraphale's nipples, and then more than that, pulling down, and with a fluttering breath, Aziraphale shifted, sliding down another fraction and making Crowley groan.

**Day 3**

The blindfold plunged him into a deep and velvety darkness, and all Crowley could do while Aziraphale cuffed his hands in front of him was make soft appreciative sounds that in any other situation would have made him blush fiercely.

As it was, all he wanted to do, in fact, all he _could_ do was sit between Aziraphale's thighs, his back to Aziraphale's chest as Aziraphale's hand stroked lazy circles down his his chest and Aziraphale's breath tickled his ear.

“Oh my sweet darling boy,” Aziraphale murmured. “Do you have any idea how very beautiful you are? Do you know how lovely you are when you let me have you?”

Crowley wanted to say something snide about that, because of course the angel would think he was the prettiest when he was giving in, but he didn't care. The only thing that mattered right now was Aziraphale's words and Aziraphale's touch, and he was as soft and airy as clouds, drifting, just drifting in a haze of pleasure and warmth.

“So perfect for me,” Aziraphale whispered. “Mine, all mine, and I'm going to find out exactly what my beautiful sweetheart can do...”

Crowley sighed as Aziraphale's hand closed over his cock, firm and stroking the shaft as familiarly as if it really did belong to him.

**Day 4**

“No, angel, I think we need to give it up. Strip chess is nowhere near as intriguing or as sexy as was promised.”

**Day 5**

Knelt down on a comfortable cushion between Aziraphale's legs, Crowley allowed his mind to go soft around the edges, let the weight of the angel's cock between his lips grow more and less by turns. The only sounds were the turning of pages – an unexpurgated copy of The Decameron, Aziraphale had told him some time ago – the soft shush of the angel's breathing, and the slow beat of his own heart.

Every once in a while, Aziraphale's hand came down to rest in Crowley's hair, stroking idly or tangling in the slippery strands, his fingertips ghosting over the tips of Crowley's ears or the side of his neck. Sometimes, Aziraphale read him a particularly amusing passage, but otherwise they were both silent, allowing the minutes and hours to tick by in near-perfect peace.

Crowley surfaced when Aziraphale's breathing got rougher, when the fingers playing through his hair got firmer.

 _Ah, he must have gotten to a good bit,_ Crowley thought, pleased, and it was confirmed when Aziraphale dropped his other hand to Crowley's head as well, drawing him firmly forward as his cock filled Crowley's mouth.

**Day 6**

“My dear, I am so dreadfully sorry, but the more I read up on the matter, the less I want to play pirate.”

“Look, we're creative not-really-people, we can't we just... you know, sort of ignore the bits about scurvy and run-ins with the Royal Navy, and concentrate on the sexy parts?”

“Weren't you actually a pirate for a few years back in the 1810s?”

“All I'm saying, Aziraphale, is that you should try on the eye patch, see how you like it.”

**Day 7**

Crowley delivered a series of fast stinging slaps to Aziraphale's rear before pausing to shake out his hand and to listen to the angel's pretty little whines.

“Oh, poor thing,” he said, oozing false sympathy. “Poor precious. Does it hurt?”

Aziraphale whimpered, and Crowley tutted.

“It's all very well for you, but look at my hand. It's gone quite red and sore. I think I need a break...”

Aziraphale hiccuped something that might have been a _thank goodness,_ starting to lever himself off of Crowley's lap before Crowley pushed him back down.

“Oh not so fast, angel. We are a tool-using household, and it just so happens that I have this slipper right here...”

**Day 8**

“'Claudia threw her head back on the pillow, eyes shut tight as Jason laved at her softest parts with his skilled dedicated tongue. She had never felt anything like this before, and the pleasure rolled over her in waves, leaving her breathless, driving every thought out of her head. She couldn't, she couldn't, she _couldn't_ give in to what the dashing pirate was offering her, couldn't give in to the pleasure or the allure of the life he held out like some gleaming gem, she simply couldn't, but then he tongued her just right, and she no longer had a choice...'”

“No, I don't think this is going to be a good substitute for playing pirate.”

“Ah, all right. It was just an idea anyway. Shall we-”

“I didn't stay stop. You can at least get to the end of the book – you know how I feel about not finishing stories.”

**Day 9**

In the darkness of the closet, Crowley wrapped his arms around his knees, making himself an even tighter ball at the very back. He could hear Aziraphale moving through the flat, his step soft and purposeful.

“Did you think that you were going to get away that easily, darling? Do you truly think I won't find you? _Catch_ you?”

Crowley swallowed silently, trying not to shift from nerves or arousal. His skin felt too warm, the dark of the closet almost suffocating.

“You should have come out when I called,” Aziraphale continued, his voice soft and ominous. “You know I do not like to be kept waiting. You're only making it harder on yourself when I do catch you...”

Crowley let out a silent sigh of relief as the bedroom door opened and closed. That sigh quickly turned into a yelp as the closet door opened, and Aziraphale – that cheater – reached down and hauled him out.

With careless strength, Aziraphale threw Crowley on the bed, and before he could scramble away, the angel came to straddle his hips, pinning him in place.

“You really should have come out when I called,” Aziraphale said mildly, flicking his pen knife open in his hand.

**Day 10**

Crowley wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. He didn't strictly need to sweat, but it was for the look of the thing, and Hell forbid that the angel didn't know how hard he worked.

“You really are just an exhausting angel, you know that? Just utterly spoilt. Look at how very hard you have me working.”

Aziraphale mumbled something that was probably a protest through the gag. He couldn't really argue in any other meaningful way, given that he was lashed down tight over the table. There was a charming steel plug in his arse, and Crowley removed the dildo he had been using to fuck his cunt in order to pick up another, larger one. Aziraphale flinched, making a begging noise as Crowley slid it between the lips of his cunt, sliding it up and down to show Aziraphale how very large it was.

“I mean, look at the size of this thing. What a perfect slut you are, needing something like this …”

Crowley grinned at the way Aziraphale squirmed and squeaked, and he was altogether merciless as he pushed the toy in inch by inch.

**Day 11**

Crowley came up from a light doze in the middle of a gasp, Aziraphale's hands on his hips, Aziraphale's cock half-buried in his arse. The angel was warm and heavy against his back, and drowsily, he tilted his head back against Aziraphale's shoulder.

“Decided to go for it?” he inquired.

“You're rather beautiful asleep, my dear,” Aziraphale said, the rough edge in his voice sending a shiver through Crowley's body “And you did say I could.”

“I did,” Crowley said, letting his limbs go looser and his spine relax. “Tell me what you like about fucking me while I'm asleep.”

“I like how easy it is and how helpless you are,” Aziraphale murmured in his ear. “I like how you are utterly defenseless, that you couldn't stop me if you wanted to. As if you are my precious and perfect toy, and you are only here so I can put my cock in you...When I'm done, I'll clean you up and put you right back for the next time ...”

Crowley let his eyes flutter shut, going quiet, or at least, going as quiet as he could until Aziraphale closed his hand around his cock and showed him there were some things he couldn't even pretend to sleep through.

**Day 12**

“Oh, love, I found just the – Whatever in the world is going on?”

“Virtual teleconferencing gangbang! Say hello to the lads, angel!”

**Day 13**

That phrase, _practice kissing,_ stuck in Crowley's head, and it had started as a silly thing. Of course Aziraphale would be the nervous one who wanted to practice, and of course Crowley would be the worldly one who knew all about it, but at some point, the plot had gotten away from them, and now they were just kissing on the couch while an episode of Dr. Who played quietly in the background.

Crowley's mouth tingled and he was actually a little lightheaded from how long they had been doing this. He was still aroused in a vague sort of way, wouldn't say no to a quick fuck or suck, but it all seemed very far away in light of how much he loved Aziraphale and how much Aziraphale needed to be kissed.

He mouthed gently at the point of Aziraphale's jaw, relishing the way it made Aziraphale cling to him, and then he nipped firmly at Aziraphale's earlobe. He thought he was doing well until Aziraphale found the most sensitive spot right under his chin, and Crowley lost the plot for a while.

**Day 14**

Surely they should have gotten tired of this at some point, Crowley thought, thrusting into Aziraphale again. Surely at some point in the last two weeks, in the last six thousand years, they should have worn out their welcome with each other, said _All right, I need some time off on my own, stay on your side of the country._

Aziraphale's eyes drifted open, calm and hungry and longing and loving all at once, and deliberately, he tightened around Crowley's cock, making him gasp.

“Cheater,” he said, and Aziraphale laughed. He could feel that too.

“Would you want me to stop?”

“No. No, not ever.”

Maybe it was because they weren't human, or maybe it was because they were somehow still in the honeymoon period. Maybe another ten, eleven thousand years in, it would be time for boundaries and alone time, time to really find themselves and figure out who they were without one another.

“Are you all right, darling?” Aziraphale asked softly. He brought a hand up to Crowley's face, brushing his knuckles butterfly-gentle over Crowley's cheek. “You look a touch distant.”

“Nah, 'm right here with you, angel, I promise.”

Another ten thousand years, maybe, _maybe_ he would get tired of this, but honestly, he didn't really think so.


End file.
